Dragon's Breath
by Mersedes
Summary: Joey. Seto. Life. Love. Pain. Happiness. It's all relative, isn't it?
1. Chapter 1 redone

**You're My Dragon**

**I have no idea where this came from. **

**Poor Jounouchi!**

The wet and slimy thing slithered around the spot under his ear. He shuddered.

"I know you've been wanting this just as much as I have," he purred. Jounouchi tensed. He did not want it. He did not want anything to do with this man.

"N-no," he choked out. But the man trailed his fingers down his arms, lightly, and nipped at his neck. Jounouchi gasped at the odd sensation, not liking it in the least bit. He tried to squirm out of the other's arms, but found he couldn't—the man had a bruising grip around his hips.

"Katsuya…" the breathy moan sent Jounouchi's stomach tumbling over itself. He trembled, and clenched his fists at his sides. The man's breath over took him; his scent overpowered him; he felt completely useless.

"Katsuya…"

Jounouchi slid his eyes shut, letting the tears slip down his pale cheeks.

"You're mine…" Jounouchi shivered. He couldn't stop shaking. His knees threatened to buckle underneath him any second now. The other man chuckled at Jounouchi's response. "You'll learn to like it…"

Jounouchi shook his head wildly, trying to dispel the other's horrid voice from his ears. His heart pounded painfully in his ears. He had become supersensitive to every touch. _No_.

But he felt his head yanked backwards by the hair. He winced as pain shot up his scalp.

"I said, you'll learn to like it," the other man snarled. Jounouchi's breath hitched painfully in his throat. He could feel the other man press against his back insistently.

Jounouchi whimpered.

"Are you scared, Katsuya?" the voice whispered breathily into his ear. His breath landed on Jounouchi's face, making him flinch. Jounouchi felt the man's hands roam around his backside.

"Stop that," the voice hissed, digging his hands into Jounouchi's soft stomach. Jounouchi did not even open his eyes. His mind was filled with blind panic. "I said stop it," the other man stated, and roughly bit down on Jounouchi's ear, making it bleed. The other man watched the blood well, and drip down the curve of Jounouchi's ears. "Dammit, stop shaking," he roared, and threw Jounouchi to the floor. He jumped atop the smaller boy, and straddled him. "I'm going to show you what it means—"

Jounouchi whimpered again. The man slapped him, leaving a dark red mark to mar his perfect features.

Beautiful, the man thought. Katsuya Jounouchi. Right where he wanted him. He examined the younger boy carefully, noting the soft, innocent yet stubborn features adorning his face. He slid a finger down Jounouchi's cheek, marveling at how soft it was. He slid his other hand in Jounouchi's hair, which shone brightly in the light like spun gold.

Jounouchi shivered, and tried hugging his body to himself. But couldn't.

"Open your eyes," the man ordered. He wanted to see those enticing chocolate orbs for himself.

If anything, Jounouchi squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He heard his head snap against the floor before he felt it. _Crack_. Jounouchi moaned as pain drove all thoughts away from his current situation. He clutched his head in both hands, not understanding the compromising situation he put himself in.

"Thank you for being so cooperative, Katsuya…" the man purred, tugging Jounouchi's hands away from his hair, and into his grip.

Jounouchi flinched.

The man smiled at the nigh-ruined beauty under him. _Mine_, he thought insanely. He cupped Jounouchi's cheek, and tilted it towards him.

"Open your eyes," he whispered, leaning down to speak into Jounouchi's ear again. He smirked when Jounouchi shivered, and grinned when the young blond opened his eyes to reveal dazed yet utterly breathtaking eyes. The chocolate orbs radiated intoxicating fear and panic.

Jounouchi's eyes focused on the figure above him, and he tried to let forth a piercing shriek. The man above him clamped a hand over his mouth tightly, and leaned down to bite Jounouchi's neck—hard.

The hand on his mouth muffled the desperate cries from Jounouchi's lips.

"Where were we?" Jounouchi felt hot breath slither across his skin. He whimpered in fear and confusion.

Rough lips with bruising force descended on his own. He bit down in retaliation.

"You bitch!" Jounouchi saw stars explode in his eyes.

Jounouchi couldn't think. All he wanted to do was focus on breathing. Yes, that was easy enough. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

He was dizzy, and his head was pounding, and he couldn't breathe, and now he thought he was hearing voices.

They sounded oddly like one of his friends, but he didn't know which one. There were two voices, Jounouchi concluded, before he squeezed his eyes shut against the bright light of the classroom.

Voices. He could get out!

Jounouchi renewed his struggles, but in his weakened state, could barely do anything to harm the other, who was leering predatorily at him.

"Do that again, and I swear I'll—"

But Jounouchi didn't let him finish his sentence. When the other man widened his stance, Jounouchi drove a kick right to his groin. The other toppled off of Jounouchi, and curled up on the floor.

"You bitch!" The man hissed from the floor.

Jounouchi stood immediately on shaking limbs. He raced to the other side of the classroom, and wrenched the doorknob open. He stumbled out of the classroom, and ran into the throng of ceaselessly moving students.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. It was all a dream. A very, very evil and bad dream, and he would wake up any second now…any second now…

He bumped into people, not watching where he went. He never wanted to stop. He wanted to get away from that filth.

He wanted to find someone. Just someone he knew. He was just so _scared_ and _confused _and he didn't know what to _do_. He wanted to see a familiar face. Anyone would do. Just somebody, somebody he could hold onto for just a moment. Somebody he could trust.

He suddenly bumped into something hard, yet yielding. It refused to let him through, even though he had sidestepped it, and nearly tripped in the process. Looking up, he saw cold cerulean eyes pierce his soul.

"Mutt," Kaiba sneered instantly. He opened his mouth to roll off a string of insults. The blond idiot always irritated him, especially with his half-witted retorts and inane challenges to duel him. But it wasn't irritating in a necessarily _bad_ way…

Jounouchi interrupted him.

"S-sorry," he muttered in his confused state. He backed away, flustered.

The tall brunet took a step forward, not liking how his former rival was backing away from him, shooting frenzied, wild eyed glances around him. The taller teen narrowed his eyes shrewdly, trying to assess Jounouchi's disheveled state and odd behavior.

The other had backed into a wall, clutching his stomach with both hands, and was gasping as though he would start hyperventilating. His cheeks glistened with _tears_ the CEO concluded, utterly shocked. He stood for a moment observing the boy in front of him, his mouth agape. Was that _blood_ trailing down the curve of his ears? And why was his hair such a horrible matted mess?

He reached out a hand to shake Jounouchi out of his stupor, but Jounouchi flinched violently, and tears poured down his cheeks. The CEO's eyes widened perceptibly in worry. Jounouchi was standing here and _crying _in front of him? Hell, he never even showed any trace of a defeated attitude even after he'd beat him at duels. What was going on?

Jounouchi's red-rimmed eyes widened. _Kaiba._ His trembling surged. His heart pounded. He couldn't take it; he wouldn't be able to take it if Kaiba started something now. He clenched his teeth, and waited for nausea to pass, before looking back at the predictably irate CEO.

"Hey," Kaiba began, in a soothing tone. He stepped forward slowly, so as not to frighten Jounouchi even more than he already seemed to be. He held his arms out in a gesture of peace.

Jounouchi whimpered in surprise, and stepped away from the brunet until he felt the cold wall at his back. He couldn't take it. Kami-sama, not now, please not now...

Jounouchi looked up through his bangs, waiting for Kaiba to land his first blow. But his eyes widened in surprise and bewilderment. Kaiba didn't _look _angry. Kaiba was standing a few feet away from him, with his palms held out. Jounouchi looked from his outstretched arms to his face. He couldn't read the emotions that had emerged from the other's cold depths. Kaiba wasn't glaring, Jounouchi realized. He had a small frown on his face, but that was it. Confusion and fear contorted Jounouchi's features, but a spark of hope shone in his eyes.

A split second later, he launched himself at Kaiba, and collapsed as Kaiba wrapped his arms around his shoulders in a failed attempt to straighten him.

Only a few things penetrated Jounouchi's numb mind as he buried his head into Kaiba's shoulder.

Seto Kaiba. Classmate. _Safety_.

"Jounouchi," the other murmured quietly. Jounouchi's dazed mind couldn't process that the CEO had even said his name, let alone spoke to him as though he cared. Jounouchi was too tired to think. He sagged in the other's strong embrace. Tears slipped down his cheeks faster and faster as he thought about what could have happened. He couldn't fight back the frightened whimper that tore itself from his raw throat.

"That's it," the CEO declared as he held his one-time enemy up by the shoulders. He tried to move Jounouchi's head from his shoulder, but found that the golden-haired boy refused to move.

"You're coming home," he simply stated, not waiting for any response from Jounouchi. His worry mounted until he saw the hair fall back from the other's forehead, revealing impossibly pale cheeks streaked with fresh tears. He gasped in surprise when Jounouchi turned those frightened, tear filled eyes towards him—it felt as though somebody had punched him in the gut and left him winded.

Raw pain and fear radiated from the trembling boy's normally warm chocolate eyes. _Broken._ His eyes sent him messages that shocked him to his very core. Kaiba had only seen that much pain and helplessness in another's eyes. His own.

"You can rest at the mansion," the taller teen stated softly. Inwardly, he felt as though he had been submerged in an ice bath. What could have reduced his puppy to such a state? He stared at the mop of blond hair underneath his chin. He could feel a violent shudder ripple through the other. He clenched his jaw tightly. Whatever had happened, he would get to the bottom of it.

Jounouchi couldn't believe his ears. It was a dream. It was all a dream …

But the shoulder his head was nestled against wasn't a dream. But the strong arms around his waist weren't a dream. Wait a second…Jounouchi began panicking. He tried to push away from the CEO in fear, and shuddered when he found he was too weak to do so. He didn't like the helpless situation he was in, once again.

Seto looked down at the violently shivering teen in his arms. "I swear I am not going to hurt you." But Jounouchi still struggled in his arms.

"Jounouchi," he whispered, trying to get the other teen to look him in the eye. Jounouchi instantly met his gaze. Confusion, pain, and terror danced across his honey colored irises. Kaiba bit his lower lip, and allowed emotion to suffuse through his normally icy exterior.

"I am not going to hurt you, alright?" Jounouchi continued to stare at him, with a glazed over look in his eyes. "Katsuya," Kaiba stated a bit louder. Jounouchi met his gaze again, this time a bit cleared, as though the mud had been cleared away.

"K-Kaiba?" Jounouchi stuttered, blinking. "What are you doing here?" Jounouchi raised his head from where it had rested against his chest, and looked up questioningly at the CEO.

"We're going home," Kaiba stated simply, lifting the other teen into his arms. He strode over to the exit, kicking open the doors of the school, letting sunlight illuminate the two.

"Home," Jounouchi nodded, bone weary, letting the other carry him, feeling the relief of not having to bear his weight. He felt so light-headed. He was just so tired…so drained…he wanted to sleep.

All of a sudden, the immensity of the situation rushed up to him. He was in Kaiba's arms, after he had been in his teacher's—

Jounouchi twisted out of Kaiba's hold, and fell to the ground. He wheezed, uncomfortably aware of the students outside staring oddly at him now. He held himself up on shaking elbows, and heaved.

He couldn't hold the filth in.

It could have been moments later, or an eternity later, Jounouchi didn't know, but he felt warm hands massage his back soothingly. He sighed. Cool fingers brushed his damp hair off his temples, and massaged his scalp. He opened his eyes to find cerulean eyes once more, peering down at him anxiously.

"I'll be alright," he groaned, sitting up, clutching his stomach.

"Come on Jounouchi," Kaiba rubbed Jounouchi's back, before standing and holding out his hand.

He tried to stand on his trembling legs, but somehow they couldn't hold his weight up. He stumbled.

Kaiba caught him by the shoulder, and pulled Joey's weight onto him.

"Just lean on me," Kaiba said into the other's ears. "I won't let you fall," he whispered quietly, unaware that Joey heard.

Joey finally relented, letting Seto support his weight.

His dazed mind reaffirmed what it had concluded before: _Kaiba meant safety. Kaiba wouldn't let him fall._

Both teens made their way to the limo parked at the curb. The driver leapt to open the door. Kaiba gently set Joey inside, and slid in himself.

Joey couldn't stop the shivers that wracked his body, although Kaiba had turned up the heat and although it was sixty degrees outside.

Kaiba sat at the other side of the limo, unsure of what he should do. All he wanted was to scoop up his pup and hold him close. But with his reaction before, he didn't want to mess things up. But he was surprised when Jounouchi crawled over to him sleepily, and lay his head down on his knee. Startled, Kaiba brushed the hair out of Jounouchi's eyes so that he could see them. What was Jounouchi doing?

"Kaiba, you're dragon, alright? You're my dragon…" Jounouchi murmured, exhaustion overtaking him. Kaiba smoothed Jounouchi's hair down, and continued massaging his scalp, inwardly seething and plotting bloody revenge against whoever hurt his puppy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! Yes, I might continue this...I have a bunch typed out. I'm so sick, I know...**

**Chapter 2 **

* * *

The limo ride progressed in silence, until they arrived at the mansion. Seto looked down at the sleeping form in his lap, loathe to wake him. But one way or another, he wanted to know what had frightened his pup so badly.

"Jounouchi?" he whispered, unconsciously tangling his fingers in the other's locks. Jounouchi stirred, and his nose twitched before he curled into a tighter ball. Seto sighed, and lifted the younger teen by his shoulders, and propped him against the backseat. He got out himself, and walked over to the other side to open the door. When he unlocked the door, he almost stumbled backwards. Two confused pools of melted honey met his eyes anxiously.

Although he was known for being the genius of Domino High, and the most successful businessman of the year, for four years straight, he could not help but use the overly abused cliché; Joey…well, he…

He simply took his breath away.

From the way his hair caressed his tear-stained cheeks and fell almost delicately around red-rimmed eyes that were looking around him, panicked, to the way he bit his trembling bottom lip in worry.

So lost…

So helpless…

So exposed…

Kaiba's blood surged in his veins and his cheeks stained a brilliant red. He couldn't understand the fierce protectiveness he felt at that moment. He wanted his pup to smile so badly—he wanted to see that goofy grin light up his face and his eyes. He felt his breath hitch again, as Jounouchi settled his gaze on him. Kaiba lost himself in Jounouchi's sweet innocence. He couldn't rationalize the strange emotions that were racing through his mind.

"W-where?" Joey managed to stutter. His head tilted to the side, his hair uncovering the ear that was bleeding.

Seto cleared his throat, and held his hand out.

"My mansion," he said slowly. Joey's eyes widened visibly. "Let's get you cleaned up, pup."

Joey nodded dumbly. He stumbled slightly, but felt a slight pressure at the small of his back. The warmth suffused through the thin cloth of the uniform. Joey twisted slightly, but saw that it was only Seto's arm that had balanced him. Both silently made their way to the mansion doors. Kaiba unclasped the keycard from his pocket and slid it across a hidden panel. Sliding his card swiftly into his pocket, he cast a surreptitious glance at the younger teen beside him. Joey had slid his eyes shut while they waited, but blinked them open when he felt Kaiba's eyes on him. His lips twitched, as though he was trying to smile his idiosyncratic smile again, but it faltered, never reaching his eyes.

Kaiba pushed open the doors, his hand pausing on the cool surface of the wood. He heard Joey's shoes squeak across the tile behind him, and then stop. He turned to see the blond boy's eyes widen in astonishment. Kaiba smirked.

Joey's head had begun to clear—the dizziness and nausea had all but passed as he marveled at the vast expanse known as Seto's "modestly sized" mansion.

"Close your mouth pup, lest you let the flies in," Seto quirked; he had noticed some of the color returning to Joey's cheeks.

"Mr. Kaiba, sir, we weren't expecting you." A young female fluidly entered the hall, casting a sweet smile at Joey, but a worried glance at her boss.

"Martha, the doctor." Kaiba's brows slanted in amusement as the maid hurried back out. He turned to face his charge.

Joey could hardly restrain himself from bending over backward in awe to look at the mansion's grandiosity. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, glistening in the bright afternoon sun. A winding staircase led to the upper floors, which were encased by a black topped balcony. Joey looked at the polished banister with such incredulity and glee that Kaiba bit back a clever comment.

"The room's ready, sir." The maid reentered, bowing slightly.

"Hn." Kaiba said gruffly. "Mutt?" He raised his eyes in amusement when Joey's cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment; he felt so small, so insignificant next to Kaiba in his mountain of a mansion. He cleared his throat nervously, wondering vaguely why his former rival was helping him.

He slowly raised his eyes to meet Kaiba's, sure that he'd find that distinctive smirk plastered on his normally stoic features. But when he raised his face, he was surprised—for a moment, maybe even a hair's breadth of a second, Joey thought he saw concern flash through his eyes. And then Kaiba looked away.

"Come," Kaiba turned, expecting Joey to follow.

Joey ignored his jibe.

"Why?" the word echoed in the empty mansion, and in both boys' minds, before Kaiba finally turned around to face him.

"Don't ask questions when you are not ready to bear the answers," he answered softly, wholly uncomfortable that he had shown any emotion at all. He turned on his heel, his trench coat flapping as he strode down the hallway. Joey followed behind hesitantly. "They're just going to look at you," Seto said simply as they reached a door. Seto's hand rested on the doorknob. He looked down at Joey, who had paled again. "Look, Mutt—"

"I'm not a dog," Joey replied reflexively, anger dancing in his eyes. He didn't understand what was happening with Seto's personality. One moment Kaiba was actually acting nice, and the next, he was back to his gruff self. Joey shook his head; there was no way he had imagined Kaiba stroking his hair. Why, then, was he so cold now?

**X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X. X.x.X.**

"You need to get your ear examined," Kaiba stated matter-of-factly, reaching towards the blond boy's face. Joey flinched slightly in alarm, his eyes widening, but then laughed in the uncomfortable silence that ensued. Kaiba narrowed his eyes, and pulled his hand away slowly.

He didn't miss Joey relaxing his shoulders slightly after he had put his hand back down. Kaiba grit his teeth. Something had happened to change the attitude of the other duelist—and he didn't like it. Seto spun wordlessly around and walked into the room.

Joey paused at the entrance. "N-nevermind. I don't need to get checked out."

Joey clasped his midsection protectively, and stood rooted to the spot. He turned his head to the side, and his hair cascaded over his face, hiding his eyes. He stared at the whorls in the wooden door, until Kaiba sighed exasperatedly. He was probably going to kick him out now, he thought, biting his lip. "Mutt," Kaiba barked out. He glowered at the shrinking teen.

"I-it's ok, Kaiba, I'll just go…" Joey stammered. Kaiba stalked over to him, but before he could say anything, an elderly man holding a metal clip-board entered into the hall, and paused at the door.

"Jounouchi Katsuya?" he asked kindly. "Please, don't be shy." He gestured towards the door and walked inside.

Joey hesitated, but finally relented, following the doctor inside. He allowed himself to be seated on a long examining table. He waited as the doctor bustled around the room, unable to meet Seto's eyes. He was surprised to find that the room quite accurately resembled a doctor's office, from the steel topped sink to the rows of medicine cabinets hanging above shiny counters.

Joey swallowed thickly as the doctor snapped on his gloves, his head immediately swiveling to the side.

"Just like a doctor's office, eh?" he joked, trying to diffuse his fear in conversation.

Kaiba merely rolled his eyes. He gestured to the doctor. "Just get on with it."

"Mr. Kaiba has gotten into various scrapes in the past," the doctor said good-humouredly, peeling off the wrapper of an antiseptic rub.

"Damned hired assassins," Joey heard Kaiba mutter.

Joey's eyes widened in alarm, but the doctor chuckled amusedly. Joey raised his eyebrows at the calmly seated CEO, wondering whether he had heard him correctly.

He was startled out of his thoughts when he felt a burning sensation ripple from his ear to his skull. He clenched his eyes shut, and tried to shy away, but slender arms pushed him back down.

"Relax," he heard someone murmur. He peeked out from beneath closed eyelids to find Kaiba's chair empty, and the teen himself seated across from Joey on the examining table. He couldn't read the other's emotions, but he thought he saw another flicker of concern flash through his face before he masked it. Joey averted his eyes, and stared at the linoleum floor. Moments of silence passed.

"Everything alright, doc?" he tried to say cheerfully, after the doctor straightened.

"Hm. I've patched up your ear alright; it doesn't seem too bad."

Joey fingered his newly bandaged ear. He would take it off later—it felt strange, like an extra appendage hanging off his ear.

"Can I go?" he asked eagerly, not entirely too comfortable in the doctor's presence. He fought the urge to squirm as two pairs of eyes scrutinized him.

"Not yet. I just need to check your head—"

Joey gasped as pain shot through his cranial nerves. He flinched away from the pair of hands that had come to rest on his shoulders.

"Can't stand a little bit of pain, weakling?" Kaiba goaded, smirking. Internally, he cursed himself for being so abrasive, yet he knew the teen in front of him would much rather be teased that pitied. Such was the fiery spirit he had come to admire. Kaiba smirked when Joey shot him another glare, wincing only slightly from the doctor's prodding.

"A little sincerity won't kill ya!" Joey retorted halfheartedly. He wasn't too riled up, for it was Kaiba who had brought him to his own mansion—and had given him medical treatment, even though he didn't have to, and probably would never have if he hadn't collapsed on him. He loked sheepishly at the floor again, but jerked his head upwards when he heard Seto chuckle. Kaiba was acting strange, Joey thought; but why wouldn't he? After all, he was the one who had collapsed on top of him.

Joey closed his eyes as the doctor applied more antiseptic to the back of his head. He opened his eyes when a particularly unwanted memory flashed before his eyes. He masked his whimper with another hiss of pain. He grit his teeth. He would _not_ remember that—at least not now, not in front of Seto. He'd shown enough of his weakness already, and he hoped that Kaiba wouldn't question him. He didn't know what he would say.

He looked over to Kaiba, who was looking resolutely at the wall behind his head. He looked…different, Joey concluded. He didn't have the usual scowl darkening his features, and his eyes weren't shards of ice. Hey were unfocussed, but still unnerving. Joey felt Kaiba's fingers twitch over his shoulders, and shifted under his hands. He watched as Kaiba's eyes immediately snapped to his face. His mouth set in a thin line, and he let go of Joey's shoulders, folding his hands demurely in his lap.

"That's taken care of."Joey's attention snapped back to the doctor, who tossed his slightly bloodied gloves into a metal bin. He turned back to face Joey, pulling out a small flashlight. He walked back over and stood before the young teen, and flicked the light on, sending the ray of light flickering onto Kaiba's jacket lapels. Kaiba irritatedly shifted so the metal KC clasps on his jacket wouldn't reflect the light into his eyes.

"I need to check if you've had a concussion, alright?" the doctor asked.

Joey flicked his eyes towards Kaiba. He was sure the CEO's lips had curled up reassuringly, before disappearing under his indifferent demeanor.

Joey nodded. The doctor brought the flashlight up to his eyes, still talking to him.

"Hold, still, please," he said after Joey blinked furiously. The light burned into his contracting pupils. Joey frowned—he could see nothing out of one eye, and saw Kaiba's stoic face in the other.

"Your eyes are still a bit dilated," the doctor murmured to himself. He leaned in to look at Joey's eyes better. Joey fought from leaning backward. He did not like that the doctor was already so close to him—it was like earlier that day…Joey clenched his fingers into fists, and let his nails dig into his palms. The pain brought some clarity, and he was able to block out those thoughts.

The doctor's face moved closer, and blocked out his view of Seto's face. Joey held his breath, wanting for the examination to be over. Then maybe he'd go over to the arcade, and play a few games before he had to go home. Or maybe he'd just go to work early, and—

He felt a soft pressure at his thigh. His eyes flicked downwards. The doctor's free hand had brushed against him. Joey's back stiffened immediately, and he leaned back. He ignored the doctor's protests. The world blurred, and a single whisper echoed in his mind like a poison raging through his body.

_That voice_.

The urge to throw up was back.

No. Don't remember it. _Don't._

_"You're beautiful."_

He wanted out.

"Joey?"

He shivered.

_"You're mine."_

He whimpered.

_"You'll learn to like it."_

"NO!"

Joey pushed the doctor away, and tripped over his feet in the rush to get to the door. Seto gripped the edge of the table, letting it cut into his rigid fingers. His mouth hung open in unconcealed shock. What the hell had just happened? One moment Joey was sitting on the table, and the next he was acting like a maniac.

Both men cautiously walked over to the terrified teen, who had begun clawing at the wall, desperate to get away.

The walls seemed to be closing in on Joey, squeezing the air out of his lungs until he couldn't breathe. He ignored the buzzing in his ears, but could not stop the voice from echoing in his ears. All he was aware of was the sensation on his lips, and the fingers crawling up his back and then down to his legs…

He had to get out before his mind exploded.

With a strangled cry, he raced down the hall, looking wildly from side to side, for the main entrance. Sweat dripped onto his face, dampening his hair and blurring his vision. He tangled his hands in his hair in frustration. He heard footsteps echo in the halls just as his eyes landed on the wide double doors. He raced across the room, ignoring the cries for him to wait—because he needed _out. _And he needed it now.

His heart pounded painfully in his chest. He tore open the doors and stumbled outside. The sun burned his eyes, but he welcomed the sensation. He sucked in deep breaths of air, and stumbled drunkenly onto the perfectly manicured lawn, finally collapsing. The sweet smell of dew and freshly cut grass rose to his nostrils. He turned his head, and faced the sky. He continued sucking in air—his lungs demanded more and more. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to calm his uneven breathing.

He felt footsteps thunder down the path onto the grass and then halt. He cracked open his eyes when the distinct scent of cinnamon permeated through the air, and found a pair of lapis lazuli eyes peering down at him in obvious concern. These blue eyes pierced his very soul as he stared into them. He dazedly wondered why he had never noticed the beauty sparkling in them before. These eyes did not belong to anyone who mocked him daily—no. They held infinite compassion and radiated with almost tangible worry.

They were shining, Joey thought detachedly. A small flame burned beneath the compassionate warmth, a flame that warmed Joey to his very core. For some inexplicable reason, he just felt so safe when he looked into them. Like nothing could touch him. Like they would chase away all his nightmares.

* * *

**Many of you wanted me to continue...However, if I live up to your expectations is something I'm not too sure about... **

Mersedes out


	3. Chapter 3

You're My Dragon

Hospitality

Hi all, this is another update. Hope you like it!

Seto crouched on the damp grass, watching Joey's demeanor change in states. The younger boy had been fighting to breathe—until he showed up. Seto marveled at the change. Joey had visibly calmed; the pained expression on his face had softened, and the intense panic in his eyes had all but disappeared. His hands let loose their tight hold around his middle, and his breathing evened.

Not breaking his eyes contact with the other, Seto beckoned the doctor forth.

"What the hell is going on?" he hissed.

"Abuse." Seto started at the word. Although he had been the victim of a few beatings, he had never truly been abused. Sure, Gozubaro had forced him to study unreasonable hours, but never…abuse...

"And that, er, bite mark looks recent. Judging by his abnormal behavior, he has most assuredly experienced a traumatic experience."

The words dropped like stones into his stomach. _Joey abused?_ Deep seated anger flare within him. But his rage did not seep through his impenetrable exterior; he clenched his hands together in a tight fist so the doctor would not see his fingers trembling—and so that he wouldn't scare Joey.

"What about inside?" Seto asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"I seem to have accidentally triggered something—a flashback of sorts."

"Flashback?" Seto murmured. He shifted in the grass, and sat cross legged. _Of what?_

"Yes." The doctor cleared his throat meaningfully before continuing. "He seems unusually attached to you." "Sometimes this happens when one experiences a traumatic event, and then finds something—or someone, in this case—to symbolize safety."

Seto started.

"He called me his dragon…" Seto stated pensively. _Why had Joey clung to him—he thought that he hated him…Why him? Why weren't Yugi or even Honda those symbols of safety?_

_Maybe because was at the right place at the right time…_

Seto's eyes widened, and he thought back to when he found Joey.

_Right after period three…So that had to mean something had happened around that time…_

"What will happen?"

"He seems to be most comfortable around you. And because of whatever happened inside, I assume that Joey will not be able to bear anyone touching him. But from what I see now, your presence has already begun to work its wonders."

Seto continued searching Joey's eyes. _How had he become so important to his pup all of a sudden?_"I see."

They could hear a distant hum of a lawn mower in the distance. A few crickets chirped hesitantly, as though afraid to intrude upon this moment of revelation.

"Puppy," Seto whispered, softening his voice, trying to melt Joey's fears away.

"Mr. Kaiba?"

"Hm?" Seto noticed that Joey's eyes wer regaining some of their clarity, and losing their confused muddiness.

"Might I make a suggestion?"

Seto could tell by Joey's frown that he had realized where he was again. He blinked once. Twice.

"Hm?"

Joey's finger's twitched in the grass.

Seto finally drew his gaze away reluctantly, and peered over at the doctor.

"I know a few psychiatrists—"

"No!" Two voices exclaimed simultaneously. One thundered in unconcealed anger, while the other said meekly in blatant fear.

Both men turned around instantly to look at Joey, who stood shakily, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Kaiba stood, surprised at the doctor's suggestion.

"I-I'm fine," the youngest ground out. "I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this." Joey turned around, not facing the other two. He resolutely stared at the fence lining the lawn instead.

"Joey," the doctor began, but Seto silenced him with a hard glare.

"We need to talk. Come inside." Seto tried to catch the other teen's gaze, but Joey refused to look at him.

"I don't _want_ to talk, alright?" he said frustratedly, running a trembling hand through his hair.

Seto narrowed his eyes, and exchanged a glance with the doctor.

"Fine," he stated simply. "Lunch then? It's almost twelve, and both of us haven't eaten yet."

Joey turned around slowly. He didn't know with what face he would be able to meet Seto's gaze. So many emotions tugged at him. Anger. Anger that he'd allowed himself to be touched. Anger at overreacting to the doctor's touch so violently. Frustration at revealing his weakness. Fear of being touched again, and of being sent to a psychiatrist. And the strange fear that overwhelmed him—the fear that Seto would leave him once he came to his senses.

Without meeting Seto's scrutinizing gaze, he answered quietly. "Okay." He followed Seto inside, while the doctor shook his head silently as the door closed behind him. He took his leave.

X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X X.x.X

"Does it hurt?" Joey looked up at Seto questioningly. He was rifling through his drawers, and had set out two glasses from the cupboard. He opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a carton of orange juice, pouring it into the glasses. Joey couldn't help but stare open-mouthed at the normalcy of the scene. Seto Kaiba, president and CEO of Kaiba Corp., was doing something so mediocre as pouring out orange juice—and for him nonetheless. And he had even shed the white trench, leaving only his arm buckles on.

"Does it hurt?" Seto repeated, pausing as he pulled a tray of sandwiches out of the refrigerator.

"Hm? Oh." Joey reached behind his head, and fingered the wounded spot at the back of his head. "A little," he conceded quietly, wincing. He raised his eyebrows fractionally. Why did Seto care?

Kaiba set the tray before Joey.

"Eat. I'll be back."

Before Joey could even open his mouth, Kaiba swept out of the kitchen.

"Okay…"

Joey looked around him, before unwrapping the sandwiches and biting into it.

As he chewed the cold bread and cheese, he tried to rationalize today's events—but he found that he could not catch up to the suddenness of what was happening to him—and what had happened that day. Kaiba was actually helping him, treating him to lunch in his own home. He never thought he'd see the day. Then again, he never thought that his teacher would—

He slammed his fist on the table, rattling the glass of orange juice, and knocking over the napkin holder. He would not think of _that_.

He shook his head, and focused on the sandwiches before him.

When Seto returned a few moments later, Joey had already demolished half the plate, and was contentedly gulping down his orange juice.

Kaiba chuckled at the scene. He would never have imagined that his pup would be in his house, at his table, willingly.

He stopped once Joey turned in his seat. Mustard smudged the corner of his pup's lips. Kaiba licked his own lips, and reddened slightly.

"Here's some Ibuprofen for the pain," he said calmly, not relaying any of his emotions. He walked over to the table and set the pill bottle in front of Joey. "Two should suffice."

Kaiba turned around, and sipped his glass of orange juice. Sitting across from Joey, he noted that the boy was staring dejectedly at the plate of sandwiches.

"Don't you like them?" Seto asked, picking up a cucumber sandwich of his own.

"Kaiba?" Joey hesitantly started.

"Pup?" Seto quirked an eyebrow, holding the sandwich inches away from his lips.

Joey winced, but he let that one slide. He could tell that Kaiba's attention was entirely focused on him. He fidgeted in his seat, unused to the sharp blue-eyed gaze.

"Thank you," he whispered softly. He continued staring at the platter, noting its sheen and other odd characteristics. He just didn't want to look at Seto's face and find his glare.

"Take the Tylenol after you're done," Seto merely stated. He, too, unbeknownst to Joey, was uncomfortable with the situation—and no one had ever sincerely thanked him before, other than Mokuba. And if they had thanked him, it was only to sidle over to a "good side" which many people thought he had.

In contrast, Joey's thank you was truly heartfelt. And Seto knew it. He shifted in his seat, turning the cold glass of orange juice around in his hands.

"Don't have…" Seto heard Joey murmur something distantly.

"What?"

"Orange juice," Joey said, blushing.

Seto chuckled and stood. He propped open the refrigerator to find that the last of the orange juice was in his hands. He rolled his eyes.

"Cranberry juice?" Seto tilted his head towards Joey. He saw the other make a face and sighed mentally. "Pineapple? Guava? _Wine?_"

Joey looked up at him in surprise. Seto smirked at the shocked expression on the other's face.

"You want orange juice, don't you?"

Seto brought the cranberry juice over, and poured it into another glass. He sat down, and slid his glass of orange juice towards Joey.

"Here. I know mutts lap up other's leftovers, so this shouldn't be any different."

"Kaiba!" Joey stood, clenching his fists. Seto merely sipped his juice and picked up another small sandwich triangle.

"Go ahead. You've got your puppy dog eyes on it anyways. And I don't want you complaining about a headache all day long." Seto gestured towards the glass.

Joey scowled, but sank back down into his seat, thoroughly incensed. Who did he think he was? He thought angrily. And yet he grabbed the orange juice, popped open the pill container, and swallowed his painkillers.

"All done, pup?"

"Kaiba, how many times have I got to tell ya, I'm—"

"Not a dog," Seto finished for him as he stood. He took the glass out of Joey's hand and took his own, bringing them to the kitchen sink and rinsing them. "Sure you aren't." He smirked again. "Uh." He held up his hand. "No more arguing."

Joey closed his open mouth.

"Good dog," Seto drawled. "Now what do you say to a nap pup? I, unlike you, have work to do."

Joey reddened.

"I don't need a nap." Seto could tell Joey was getting riled up again. He heaved another sigh.

"So that's why you've got great big dark circles under your eyes. And here I was thinking dogs were just a bit smarter than that. Come on, I'll show you the guest room."

* * *

I have an idea of where this is going and I've written out at least 20-30 pages. But Joey goes through a lot more angst, torture/pain. You tell me. Joey gets emotional, and Seto gets pulled in. Would you like me to continue?

I've been hesitant because the content is descriptive, and I'm not sure if you all (or I) could stomach putting on this site because here is where it gets really 'M'-ish.

Continue or not?

Mersedes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sleeplessness and Bedrooms**

Last time:

"_Good dog," Seto drawled. "Now what do you say to a nap pup? I, unlike you, have work to do."_

_Joey reddened. _

_"I don't need a nap." Seto could tell Joey was getting riled up again. He heaved another sigh. _

_"So that's why you've got great big dark circles under your eyes. And here I was thinking dogs were just a bit smarter than that. Come on, I'll show you the guest room."_

* * *

Joey scowled, but followed him nevertheless up the winding staircase and down a dark hall with rooms lining the bare walls. Seto led him to an undistinguishable oaken door, and swung it open for him, smirking. He waited for Joey to soak in the sense that it was _his_ room he was entering.

Joey paused at the threshold, biting his lip. Surely Seto didn't mean for him to have this room. He glanced at Seto out of the corner of his eye, and saw him cross his arms and look at him expectantly. Joey blushed, and peered inside the room again.

According to Seto's high standards, the room was plain and sparsely furnished; the walls were bare and painted a cream colour, while a simple set of mahogany drawers graced one of the walls, and a small desk paired with a cushioned chair was set at the opposite wall. Slightly parted beige curtains revealed a large set of bay windows overlooking the lush gardens growing below.

Joey stepped inside hesitantly, and felt as though he was sinking into the dark carpet that lay on the floor. His gaze immediately fell on the king-size bed at the center of the room, was almost afraid to sit on the bed, for fear that it would ruin the immaculate order in the room. It remarkably only took up less than half the space of the room—but what caught his eye was the design on the headboard. Who had designs carved on headboards anyway, he thought, silently snickering. Only Kaiba…Only Kaiba would do something that eccentric. Rolling his eyes, he walked over to the bed, and trailed his fingers down the design—a dragon carved lightly across the wood, unfurling its wings. Joey blinked, forgetting the other's presence in the room. The detail was astonishing; he could feel every ridge of the dragon's scales, every smoothly carved line of the curled wings.

-.-.-

The corner of Seto's lips tilted upward in amusement, and he cleared his throat, catching the attention of the blond again. He pointed at the king-sized bed.

"Sleep. I'll be in the next room."

His trench coat swirled around his legs as he turned around. Just as he set his fingers on the cold brass doorknob, Joey called his name. He looked at the other boy past his shoulder.

Joey coughed, and his eyes darted around the room, trying to think of something to say.

"Ya—ya didn't mean all that about the hired assassins, did ya?" Joey could smack himself on the forehead; he could almost feel Seto laughing at his dumb question.

"Get some rest," Seto said, smirking slightly. He swept outside, and shut the door, leaving Joey in the room with blankets of silence to keep him company.

"You're never one to give a straight answer, are ya Kaiba?" he muttered under his breath. H looked around the room listlessly, and then walked over to the drawers. He slid them open, but didn't find anything interesting in them—just the odd mothball and links from jewelry. Joey sighed, and resignedly climbed into bed, setting the alarm clock on the small bureau to wake him in the next few hours. He kicked off his shoes and slid under the heavy covers, gratefully snuggling deeper and letting his aching back and head rest against the mattress—although the non-lumpy bed was a plus, the overly stuffed pillow was not something he was used to; it tilted his neck up at an uncomfortably high angle, so he merely hugged it to his chest, and let his chin rest atop the white softness.

He turned in the bed a few times, and although sleep was beckoning him, certain issues continued to circle around his head in a maddening fury. He clamped down on those thoughts, and in trying to forget them, he thought about the situation at hand. He was actually in Seto Kaiba's mansion, in his bed. Joey blushed. Well, not in _his _bed, but one of his beds. The strangeness of the situation washed over him. He was in a huge house—no mansion—and he was sleeping in a bedroom that wasn't his own, and a bed that probably no one had slept on in years. He grunted as he shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot.

He groaned as another need made itself known—he needed to go to the bathroom. He pushed the warm covers off, tied his shoes on, and crept out of the room, making sure to leave the door open so that he'd know which out of the various other rooms was his.

He walked down the hall, his senses strangely over-sensitized to every creak under his feet, the slight rumble of the water main swooshing through pipes, the odd draft of air from the vents in the ceiling flicking his bangs about his face, the overall heaviness of the silent house pressing down upon him like a physical being. He shivered. How did Kaiba manage to live here?

He tried twisting a few doorknobs, and most came turned freely to reveal studies and other bedrooms. He paused once at a room that refused to open, despite his fervent tugs. He shrugged, and forgot about it in favor of moving onto the next set of doors aligning the hall. Finally, he pushed open a door that led to a tasteful, yet modest bathroom, with male toiletries lining the marble sink and a gleaming mirror reflecting his haggard appearance. Sighing, he relieved himself. He washed his hands with strawberry scented soap that tickled his nose. He shook his head. Kaiba was one strange kid…

He caught his face in the mirror again, and blinked. He looked nothing like his normal self. Yes, he was usually messy and merely tossed on his wrinkled uniform before rushing out of the house and combing through his unruly hair with his fingers on the way. But this Joey, the one he was staring at in the mirror, he just seemed tired. His eyes were still reddened, and the white bandage shone as a testament to the horror he had almost endured. He could still feel the hands over his body…

Joey shuddered and flung the bathroom door open, stalking out into the hallway. He already told himself that he wouldn't think about that, and here he was, doing just that. He rubbed his face tiredly, and shook his head for good measure, before walking down the shadowy hall once more.

He paused to try and open doors again, but bit his lip in worry when he couldn't open even one of them. A cold ripple of fear slid down his back. What was going on here? He pulled haphazardly at random doorknobs; they shone mockingly and refused to admit him into the rooms. What was he to do now? He didn't even know where he was…

He reminded himself that he'd left his door open—but even as he walked farther down the hall, he could see that none of the doors were open anymore.

Finally, deeper into the hallway, a doorknob turned and allowed him inside the room. He swung the door open immediately, and blindly rushed back into the bed. Tiredness, anxiety, and stress were making him feel sleepy, and before he could register that the bedcovers were pulled up, or that there were personal items on the double sets of drawers against the wall, or even that the room was distinctly a different color—or basically that this room had a sense of being lived in—he sank into the bed, wrapping the covers over him. This time, he registered sleepily, the pillow was at the perfect angle. Smiling, he sank deeper into the bed, and breathed in the most wonderful scent of cinnamon. He pulled the covers closer, and relaxed completely, letting his eyelids droop as the room swirled into darkness. The last thing he thought he saw was a picture of a very young Seto smiling innocently at the camera, Mokuba in his arms…

-.-.-

"SETO!"

A loud voice pierced through his sleep. That was the only warning the groggy blond received before a figure jumped onto the bed and bounced wildly atop it.

"Wha—?" Joey pushed the covers from his head and blinked sleepily. "Who'zat?"

The younger, raven-haired boy's eyes widened perceptibly.

"JOEY!" The smaller bounced on the bed cheerfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "I thought you were Seto! What are you doing here?" he asked, out of breath, and sweating slightly. He grinned widely, however, when Joey sat up and stretched languidly.

"Mokuba?" He muttered, sleepily glaring at the exuberant child—who, to his annoyance, had yet to stop jumping on the bed.

"The one and only," he confirmed, smiling. He flipped open his metallic grey cell-phone and frowned. "Hey, Joey, do you want to try out Seto's new game? We still have time before he comes up." Mokuba looked at Joey hopefully, his eyes wide and his lips jutted out slightly.

Joey ineffectually rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with the backs of his hands.

"Sure." A flash of happiness lit up Mokuba's features, and Joey leaned over to ruffle his hair. "But what are ya doing in the guestroom anyways?" he asked, a yawn threatening to permanently sever his jaw from his head.

Mokuba tilted his head to the side, and raised an eyebrow—eerily enough, it looked like something Seto would do.

"This is Seto's bedroom, Joey," he replied carefully as he settled down on the bed, weighing his words thoughtfully.

Joey's teeth clacked together and his head shot up to stare at Mokuba after that statement.

"W-What?" Joey nearly shrieked. He looked around the room frantically, and finally processed that he was not, in fact, in the guest-room, and that he really was laying in Seto Kaiba's own bed. The carpet and walls were the lightest shade of blue imaginable; and the other room definitely did not have a picture of Seto and Mokuba on the night-stand. Joey's eyes widened as the realization of the events from earlier that day struck him in the spleen; his breath hitched painfully for a moment, and the terrible feeling sucked him into a darkness that he couldn't possibly avoid. He stared off into the distance, shock clearly writ upon his face.

"Joey?" Mokuba's hesitant, yet obviously worried voice asked, noting his change in demeanor. "Joey? Why are you in Seto's room?"

Joey snapped out of his reverie at Seto's name.

"What?" He shook his head to clear away the unbidden memories. "Sorry," he apologized. He noticed an obvious sigh of relief from the younger.

"What are you doing in _Seto's_ room?" He asked impatiently.

"Oh." Joey blushed. "I think I got lost," he began, sheepishly.

"Yeah, that happens," Mokuba shrugged and peered at him.

He shifted on the bed—no, _Seto's _bed. His eyes widened at the implications. Seto was going to murder him if he found out that he had slept in his bed! Joey's nose wrinkled; he could definitely smell the scent of cinnamon that wafted through the room. How in the world could he not have noticed before? His eyes settled once more on the picture frame set on the table.

"That was when Seto and I went to Kaiba Land last year," he commented, noticing Joey's interest in the picture. Joey nodded dumbly, trying to figure out how he'd explain this if—no, when—Kaiba found out; there was little that escaped his keen intuition and eye.

"Mokuba! You're home already?" came Seto's quizzical voice at the door. He pushed it open, and held his arms out. Mokuba scrambled off the bed and launched himself against his older brother before Seto could actually register what was going on in his room, or rather, who was in his bed.

"Big brother! You _are_ home! And you're early, too!"

Joey smiled at the affection between the two brothers. Seto kneeled and brushed back Mokuba's unruly hair and grinned unrestrainedly, while Mokuba re-attached himself to his shoulders.

Joey surreptitiously slid off the bed, and pull the covers back up, although they were already hopelessly wrinkled and showed signs of being slept in.

When Mokuba pulled back, Joey could see the shock on Seto's face when he registered that Joey was standing in his room.

Joey winced at the iciness in the other's eyes, and waited for the harsh rebukes to begin. He hung his head, and looked up through his lashes at Seto—who was clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes at him. Joey gulped. He wondered if anyone would find him after Seto chopped him up and tossed him in the ocean.

"Big Brother! What's wrong?" Mokuba's question hung in the air. "Are you mad at Joey for being in your room?" he asked appraisingly, weighing his brother's mounting anger and Joey's trepidation. "Oh, but Seto," he began plaintively. "Joey looks so tired. Don't be mad…" he whispered softly, looking up at his older brother with wide eyes.

Seto made a small noise, as though in protest, but it died under Mokuba's innocent entreaty.

"You're absolutely right Mokuba, he is sick, and should stay in bed," Seto smirked before walking over to Joey. He set his hands on his shoulder and pushed him down so that Joey sat heavily against the bed. "And when people are sick, they should be _resting_ and not wandering the halls only to get lost."

"Sick?" Mokuba came over, and lay a small hand on Joey's forehead. "Are you ok, Joey?"

"He's not feeling very well—he's here to convalesce," Seto confirmed, crossing his arms. The iciness in his demeanor had surprisingly all but disappeared. "And he's going to rest, now." Seto pushed against Joey's shoulder gently, until he lay down against the pillows—too shocked to move as Seto sat on the edge of the bed. What was he doing? He thought.

"Kaiba!" Joey glowered. "What d'you think you're doing? I need to go home; I can't just stay here!"

"Mokuba, why don't you go see Silvia about dinner?" Seto ruffled his brother's hair, just like Joey had done minutes ago. "Joey and I need to talk."

Mokuba nodded his acquiescence before bounding out of the room.

"Listen Kaiba," Joey began. "I have to get home before seven," Joey allowed a pleading note to enter his voice. He hoped Seto would let him leave quietly.

"Mutt. You're tired. Do us all a favor and stop yapping. Just go to sleep." Kaiba pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed the spot between his slender eyebrows.

"Kaiba! I need to go home." Joey declared again, glaring heatedly at Seto.

"You need to rest," Seto declared firmly.

"I can do that _at home_," Joey retorted, sitting up and swinging his legs over the bed.

Seto fought not to roll his eyes. The boy could grate on his nerves…

"Fine. The limo will drop you," he stated gruffly, not bothering to give Joey a backward glance. He had done enough damage anyways. He had probably confused the poor puppy.

"Kaiba," Joey's voice called out to him as he stepped out of the room into the dark hall. He could see the light pooling around his dark shadow. He could hear the other's heavy breathing, and smell his distinct cologne. But he did not turn around.

"Thank you, you know, for everything…" Joey started uncertainly. Before he could say more, he waved off his former rival, and left.

Joey slipped his shoes on with numb fingers. He looked to the picture frame—the Seto in there, frozen in a moment, was eternally smiling. Joey felt a pang in his heart, if only but for a second. He was more afraid of what his father would say—or more accurately do—if he was late.

-.-.-

Seto had locked himself in his study, mulling over the events of that day. He glared at the flashing computer screen again, and let his fingers formulate responses to certain offers, while his mind drifted elsewhere. He didn't know why he had stopped Joey from leaving. Or even why, after his initial angered response to someone in his room and on his bed, he had calmed down and actually wanted him to stay there. Perhaps it was because he wanted to watch over him. Nah, it was for Mokuba's sake. He didn't want to worry the kid. But Seto cursed his stupidity. Of course Joey would want to return to the comfort of his own home. Who in his right mind would rather stay in some stranger's house, he thought, shaking his head. Especially after what had happened earlier.

Sudden anger made his blood boil. He saw his fingers trembled against the black keyboard, and forced himself to calm down. He just needed a plan to get Joey to confess. He'd just have to be a little patient, he reasoned. Resignedly, he tried focusing on the day's portfolio.

But no matter what he tried to do, Joey's pain-filled eyes haunted him.

* * *

Er, hi guys. I'm astonished at the sheer number of reviews and responses I've elicited from you all. Thank you so much for your support. Thanks to you, I will definitely continue this story, but I must warn you that updates may be sporadic. Thank you all for being so sweet and kind, and thank you for taking the time out to read and review. I really appreciate it.

This is a super special thanks to all my reviewers who have been so supportive. Cookies to all of you!!

Love,

Mersedes


	5. Chapter 5

**Home Sweet Home**

* * *

Joey slid inside the apartment after being dropped off by Seto's limo—and after annoying the crap out of the driver by testing every single button on the console. Surprisingly, one had actually opened the small refrigerator—but only alcohol had graced its tiny plastic shelves. He had waved off the driver, and apprehensively turned toward the decrepit building.

Already, a few of the kids had gathered to watch the limo drive away. He had slipped into the apartment, making sure to slide the door shut behind him quietly—the occupants of that floor hated the grating sound of the wood slamming—and splintering—against the sagging frame. He ascended the creaking staircase sparsely lit by fluorescent bulbs up to the seventh floor, waving hello to his neighbor's dark haired young son, who sat forlornly on the steps of the second floor. He had seen the kid tutoring a few of the others at school a while back, but hadn't seen him at the middle school for the past few months. Joey shook his head, and patted him on the head before giving him a dollar to get some ice-cream.

He knew that family—he knew the boy's father was just like his own, and that neither could do anything about it. He winced as loud rock music pierced the fourth floor, and he hurried past the fifth where stringy haired women hung about the doors, their eyes straying to his figure before tapping their fake fingernails across rouged lips. The sixth floor was mercifully quiet, and he could only hope that the eight floor was the same—the walls were so thin that any sort of noise would penetrate.

Joey fit the key into the keyhole, and carefully pried the door from the doorjamb. He very much nearly gagged at the intense stench of smoke and beer that clung to the very particles of stale, hazy air floating around their apartment. Breathing through his mouth, he peered into the dark living room. The television was on, casting a sickening pale glow about the room. He could see a few cigarette sticks littering the table and the floor. The ash-tray was overflowing, too. There was no sign of beer cans—and he hoped there wouldn't be any.

Joey's stinging eyes finally landed on the huge, bulking figure of his father slumped on the tattered and stained couch. Joey dropped his backpack next to the door, and crept quietly towards his father.

"Dad?" Joey whispered. "You awake?" The actual question, Joey couldn't help but think, should have been whether his father was sober or smash drunk.

"Joey?" his dad's voice slurred. "That you?"

The young blond paused in mid-step. He had hoped to catch his father when he was sober—and hated it when he was drunk—because it was in that state of inebriation that his father would _accidentally_ push him around, or hit him until he bruised. Joey swallowed, and tried to maintain his calm demeanor, but fear squeezed his hard into a ball of ice. He clenched his shaking fists. Not now, not after today, he silently prayed.

After a few moments of silence, Joey approached the couch carefully from behind, praying that the wooden boards would hold and not squeak underfoot as they were apt to do. Joey bit his lip, and looked down at his father, and nearly sagged in relief; only one can of beer had dropped to the floor, spilling its contents across the already stained threadbare carpet—apparently, his father hadn't popped open another. His father wasn't drunk tonight. Or, he wasn't drunk _yet_.

Joey walked over to the other side of the couch, and knelt at his father's feet. He slipped off the hole-ridden shoes, instantly ashamed of his own pair. At least his shoes didn't have any holes, and were in working condition; his father refused to let him look like a poor man's boy. Tears filled Joey's eyes, but he blinked them back steadily, and unlaced the second shoe. He tucked them carefully beside the couch, and gently shook his sleeping father awake.

Twin pools of slightly dimmed honey colored eyes, almost identical to Joey's own, peered back at him confusedly. Joey smiled and sat on his heels.

"Heya dad," he whispered into the darkness, and patted his father's hand.

"Hey, son," his dad croaked out. He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. "Did you study hard at school today?"

The question was a simple one. And yet, that day, it held so much weight.

Joey swallowed. What if the school had called home because he'd skipped out the rest of his classes? And the bigger question: should he tell his father what had almost happened? He squeezed his eyes shut, but then opened them when his father smoothed the hair on his forehead.

"Yes dad," he replied guiltily.

There was absolutely no way that he'd add to his father's already climbing problems. He would just have to handle this one on his own. He wasn't a young child, and had never been one to be led by the hand to cross the street. He'd always minded himself—and he'd do the same now.

"I'm proud of ya, son, I really am. My boy…" Joey could feel his father smiling down at him, and his heart cracked in two.

Joey's throat clogged up, and he coughed uncertainly. His father smiled bitterly, looking off into the distance wistfully.

"At least ya won't be a failure," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Like me."

"Dad! No! You're not—" Joey stated immediately. He shook his head fervently, as though hoping to dislodge those words from his head. He couldn't let his father think that way. His father wasn't. Although he could never be a paragon of success—his father was anything but a failure.

"An' your mom left me. After years of bickering. An' she took little Serenity with her, my little girl."

Joey knelt silently at his father's feet, clasping his calloused hands in his own, hanging his head with the weight of his father's words. He listened to him rant about their dysfunctional family. He knew that he was the only one to whom his father would confide. He bit his lip as his father listed out his faults—each point hitting Joey across the face, for he was painfully aware that he had been letting his father down in every sense.

"How's dinner sound, Joey?"

Joey looked up at his father half in surprise and half in misery. Had he zoned out so much that the typical hour-long rant had dried up without him noticing? He could not, however, look his father in the eyes, which were most probably shining in the hope that his son would be somebody important in the world—not a nobody like he was shaping up.

"Good." Joey stood slowly, and let go of his father's hands. He walked briskly to the kitchen, first propping a creaking window open, before flicking the fan on. He coughed as the smoke swirled, and finally began to exit through the window. He gripped the counter, unable to bear his father's comments, in addition to another reminder about earlier that day.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he turned the stove on, and poured the last of the curled pasta mix into a pot. There was just enough for one, he thought pensively. He'd just go one more night without dinner, and worry about food later. Well, it wasn't the first time—and it surely wouldn't be the last, either.

-.-.-

_"You'll like it…"_

Joey shot up, a scream of hysteria bubbling up from his throat. Joey looked frantically around the darkness for his attacker, and he flung off the flimsy covers that had wrapped tightly around his legs. His breathing bordered on hyperventilation—his chest rose and fell, his breaths were rapid and shallow, and he just could not get enough into his body. His head swam painfully, and he was just so dizzy. Where was he? Where the hell was he?

Tears flooded down his cheeks in sheer relief as a tendril of moonlight lay innocently across his desk. Of course—he was at home, in his room.

Joey clenched his mouth shut at the rising nausea. _That touch…It was everywhere…_His stomach churned and his head pounded. Joey raced to the bathroom, mindless of the ever shifting floor beneath him and the walls that seemed to topple inward. He released the meager contents of his stomach, his eyes streaming as he focused on the dark hole that led to the pipes. _You'll like it._ No, he cradled his head in his arms, whimpering. No, he hadn't liked that. He _hated_ it. He flushed the knob wildly, and watched his throw-up swirl and disappear. He needed all evidence of that day cleared away, erased, forgotten.

Gripping his aching sides, he stood, and coughed. His throat burned. He leaned back against the wall, anxiety attacking him—what the hell was he going to do tomorrow? _Those eyes…_

Another bout of nausea left him crumpled on the cold, tiled floor, his eyes staring unseeingly at the ceiling.

_You're mine…_

* * *

Just a short chapter on Joey's home-life. Was it realistic?

Love,

Mersedes


	6. Chapter 6

****

Filthy Lies

* * *

"Joey!" He heard, just before he felt a hand land on his back, and flinched.

Yugi looked worriedly up at him, his spiky tri-colored hair framing his soft face and emphasizing the innocence in his amethyst eyes. Atemu and Tristan sidled up to them, casting curious glances at Joey—they, too, were wondering where their best friend had rushed off to during the middle of the day.

"Where were you yesterday?" Yugi's widened violet eyes radiated relief and concern. Joey paused. Did he want to tell them? Could he tell them? He let that thought flit across his mind for less than a millisecond. No, he shuddered, he had thought about this last night. He would never tell a soul. That Kaiba knew about his condition yesterday was bad enough.

He really didn't want to trouble his friends, or cause them undue worry—as would happen if he even hinted that he wasn't well. He could just imagine Atemu roaring in fury, lashing out with his mystical powers, perhaps even casting his teacher to the shadow realm—which wouldn't be so bad, he thought bitterly. But then he thought about innocent Yugi's reaction; his heart would just about break if he even heard that someone had hurt his friend. And Tristan—well, fists first and words later had been their motto in earlier years, and he assumed it held sway, if even just for his sake.

He hated lying to his friends, he really did. He rarely ever did so—except when it concerned his father hurting him. He hadn't ever told Tristan, who had actually figured out the situation when he came to school one day with bruises. Joey had forgotten to change into his gym clothes in the bathrooms, and accidentally bared his back to Tristan, who had instantly whirled him around and forced him to answer his questions.

Of course, that resulted in a detention because neither had gone to gym class that day, but had snuck outside where they usually sat for lunch. Tristan had been understanding, but Joey continued to feel the undercurrents of something akin to pity weighing down their conversations when he would come to school limping with another invisible bruise.

He had felt relieved after he had talked to Tristan. He had felt lighter, almost better, he could say.

But this. This was completely different. This was much, much darker. It was as though a knife was digging holes into his skull whenever he thought about it. So, after spending half the night retching helplessly in the toilet, he had dragged his abused body to the bed, and stayed up thinking. Not thinking directly about what had happened—no he'd never do that—but rather, thinking about what he would do about the situation regarding his friends and his dad, and even Seto.

He stubbornly concluded that what had happened, had happened, and refused to allow anyone to skirt around his secret—because then he (or she) would find out. And that would topple the fragile balance he had built to keep him sane, just last night. It had felt like keeping sand cupped in his palms—impossible.

He shook his head, and realized Yugi had been calling his name for probably a few moments now. He smiled, masking his pained thoughts, and thumped Yugi on the back.

"I went home—I was just a stomach bug!" He lied quickly, remembering to smile reassuringly up at Atemu and Tristan.

"You're ill?" Atemu raised his hand to Joey's forehead. His eyes widened slightly as he watched the hand move closer and finally make contact with his head. He felt slightly out of breath, and parted his 

lips, breathing through them because he just could _not_ get enough air through his nose. Joey burst into another grin, and playfully swatted Atemu's hand away, shuddering slightly. But that was ridiculous—these were his friends. Shaking off the thought, his mind raced to the present.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Quit fussing!" Joey slammed his locker shut, and pulled the strap of his backpack to his body. "Let's just get to class ok?" Without waiting for their answer, he strode out of the small hallway—and away from his guilt, he couldn't help but think. He slowed his fast paced stride, and rubbed his temples. After berating himself for flinching, he leaned against the wall, letting the sounds of the hall wash over him. If only…If only…things were different…But they weren't, he reminded himself.

He would just have to keep up this façade—if not for them, then for himself.

"Joey?" Yugi's voice called out behind him.

Joey instantly whirled around.

"Listen guys, I'm really sorry I worried you. Are you guys alright?" Joey asked sincerely, as the trio caught up with him.

Atemu's eyes were narrowed in contemplation, but Tristan and Yugi accepted his excuse easily.

Guilt gnawed at him. Of course they would be worried about him—especially little Yugi, and here he was, trying to run away from them.

Shakily running a hand through his hair, and waited for their response.

Joey burst into another grin as Yugi nodded almost hesitantly, his eyebrows still knit in worry. "I was just sleeping it off Yugi, it's nothing to worry about."

"If you say so," Tristan said, adjusting his backpack. "But O'Brien's gonna kill us when we didn't finish that chem. lab report."

"Did ya have to remind me?" Joey slapped his hand onto his forehead, only in part mock frustration.

"Come on Joey, let's see if you two can finish it up before class starts," Yugi piped up, rifling through his backpack for his own report. He brightened when he finally found a manila folder. "Here." He held it out to Joey triumphantly. "You can copy my data, and Yami and I can help you answer the essay questions."

"Thanks Yug," Joey said sincerely as he clapped Yugi on the shoulder again. His features melted from anxiousness to warmth. Another stab of guilt tore through his heart as he stared into his best friend's innocent and trusting gaze. His stomach began aching again, making hunger and nausea known. As they walked down the hall to the library, only one thought anchored his consciousness.

He had just lied to his friends.

-.-.-

Joey sank deeper into the wooden chair, and propped the water-logged textbook up, trying to hide his face. This is ridiculous, he thought. He tapped the pencil on the wooden counter, and then traced the carvings that dented the flimsy wood. "M+K forever." He scoffed. Sure….

Joey lowered his head to the rough surface, hoping that at least closing his eyes and dozing for a bit would assuage the constant flow of flashbacks spilling into his mind at random times. Every odd touch with another person in the hallway sparked a horrible feeling emanating from his gut, so now he'd decided to either leave class early, or leave class extremely late, just to avoid the hallway rush.

He groaned when he felt the sharp bite of a splinter of wood dig into the pad of his finger. Straightening, he sucked on is with his teeth, and pulled it out. A small droplet of blood was already forming on the surface. He grimaced and held a tissue over it.

A small cut—if only that was all that he had to worry about. That splinter was so miniscule compared to yesterday…

Shaking his head, he yelled at himself for thinking backwards again. He had done this countless times already, but still could not stop. He couldn't forget.

He screwed up his eyes tightly, hoping that he would stop seeing the searing grey eyes dance mockingly across his vision—or feel the sickening touch of his skin.

Joey pressed his palms to his eyes in frustration, and tugged on his blond locks. He wanted to forget, damnit. He had been so close, too…If only it hadn't been for that one kid almost knocking him to the ground. He tugged harder at his hair. He almost had a panic attack then, stumbling past everyone, and rushing into the quiet solace of the library.

He almost laughed out loud. If people had told him that he'd actually voluntarily go to the library, he'd tell them they'd been whacked upside the head one too many times.

Footsteps tapped on the floor. Joey lifted his hands away from his hair, expecting to find a librarian about to yell at him again—he hadn't taken a library pass, after all. Before he could turn around and blab out another excuse, he felt a hand on his shoulder. A heavy, manly hand.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

Joey stiffened in his seat, his breaths coming in short, strangled gasps. His fingers gripped the edge of the table until they whitened with the force. He could feel the heat seep through his thinning uniform into his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and trembled.

* * *

**Sorry about the cliffhanger! But I will try to update faster next time since I've finally finished my first year of college. Phew, it was nothing like I imagined… **

**Haha, the first thing I did, once I finished my finals and came home, was take a tumble down the stairs—resulting in my first day of freedom becoming a boring day at the radiologists' and at the doctor's office. But I'm glad I only sprained my ankle! **

**Anyways, if you have any questions or comments about anything, please review or send me a message! I'd really appreciate it! Thank you, all you loyal readers!**

**Mersedes**


	7. Chapter 7 A

**A Meeting of Sorts**

Um….hey guys (ducks sheepishly and avoids flying fruit)

Please forgive me for not updating for a super long time…But please bear with me. I send my heartfelt apologies to each and every one of you who reviewed, and yes, also to those of you who were kind enough to PM me and tell me to get my a… back on track. Thank you. And I won't hold you. On with the fic! (oh, and let me warn you: there's a POV change, so watch out for it!)

-.-

_Footsteps tapped on the floor. Joey lifted his hands away from his hair, expecting to find a librarian about to yell at him again—he hadn't taken a library pass, after all. Before he could turn around and blab out another excuse, he felt a hand on his shoulder. A manly hand. _

_Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit._

_Joey stiffened in his seat, his breaths coming in short, strangled gasps. His fingers gripped the edge of the table until they whitened with the force. He could feel the heat seep through his thinning uniform into his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and trembled. _

-.-.-

"Pup?" The soft, _familiar_ voice echoed through the quiet of the library, and penetrated through Joey's dazed brain.

Joey exhaled a loud, gusty sigh and turned around to glare at the teen standing behind him. He resisted the urge to clamp a hand over his still-too-rapidly beating heart.

"It's just you," he grumbled, trying to cover his nervousness. His gaze skittered nervously over the immaculately dressed teen. "What are ya doing in the library? Don't ya have any other place to be?"

Joey registered in one small part of his brain that he was being completely irrational—in fact, his behavior was bordering on insane; standing behind him was _Seto Kaiba. _That alone should have caused the rational part of his brain to shoot super-fast messages across his nervous synapses to his mouth, telling it to close the gap between his lips and keep it that way.

But of course, the adrenal glands that had short-circuited his brain and gone straight to his bodily functions had yet to cease releasing that neurotransmitter. Hence, he did not realize that he had just snarked on someone who had called a doctor for him, and acted like a caring human being for once, while here _he_ was acting like a petulant child.

The faintest touch of guilt crossed his consciousness, but he pushed it away hastily. After all, didn't Seto very nearly give him a coronary just moments ago? Stupid Seto Kaiba, he thought angrily—although that rational part of his brain was berating him for treating the other teen so harshly. He didn't really remember exactly what had happened yesterday after…after…

Anyways, somehow, he found himself at Kaiba's house. He really, really hoped the other teen had no idea about…IT—and it worried him that he could barely remember what happened yesterday. Just that Kaiba had gone off on his dog-names and that he had let him stay for a bit before letting him off at home.



Of course he had wondered how he'd gotten to Kaiba's house in the first place, because everything was just one big nasty blur, but he'd asked Mokuba and Mokuba had told him that Kaiba had told him that he had collapsed at school and had just brought him home. Which didn't make sense at all, but Joey wasn't going to think too much on it.

He had been too exhausted to think of the ramifications of ending up at Kaiba's house after IT,that he hadn't thought about it at all. Up until this point, at which reality felt that it needed shake him up a bit and remind him that he was deeply, and utterly screwed. Surely Kaiba had no clue as to what happened, right? And why would he care?

Wouldn't Kaiba love to use his behavior from yesterday to create more insults and throw them heartlessly back at him? After all, everyone knew Seto Kaiba's favorite pastime was taunting Joey Wheeler.

Joey's stomach executed a fine little somersault, followed by some flip-flops like an Olympic gymnast. The split second shock that pervaded his body was replaced by a feeling that had Joey wondering whether it would have been better to crawl in a hole and just lay there for eternity.

The teen paled and his fingers twitched on top of the table. _No_, he just couldn't…He wouldn't tell anyone would he?

"I'm surprised you know where you are. I thought you were lost again," Kaiba quipped, breaking Joey out of his reverie. He strode around the table and crossed his arms and stood there coolly, his presence once again overshadowing everything in his midst.

Joey scowled and lowered his hands to the table, drumming them listlessly while trying to avoid Kaiba's penetrating gaze. Relief _had _flooded his system once he'd realized it was just Seto, but it was now replaced with well-placed worry that gnawed at his brains and caused his heart to trip unpleasantly. His irritation grew when he realized that his emotions were too scattered, his nerves too frayed, to even tell the other teen to go away. Maybe he should just keep silent, and the other boy would get the message?

He did not want to deal with the pretentious blue-eyed, well-dressed-without-a-spot-of-lint CEO today. Just not today, he silently begged whatever deity was out there. He just wanted to sit quietly, by himself, and did _not _want to answer any questions that he just _knew _would tumble out of the other's lips. He really, really wished he had found a hole to hide in.

"What? No half-wit retort to colour my day?" Kaiba smirked, before pulling out a chair swiftly and settling down on it. He crossed his long legs under the table, and leaned forwards, steepling his fingertips. Joey heartbeat, which had been going at highway speed, now sped back up. He bit back his rejoinder, which included telling the other teen in which orifice he could shove his retort, and instead focused on the markings on the table.

_Why the hell did he sit down? _He thought panickedly. He stilled his fingers, and tucked them under the table. He resisted the urge to run from the table screaming. Right. Like that would blow over well.

He knew his body posture, half rigid with tension, conveyed his nervousness—and he knew that the bastard part of the CEO was just waiting to tear him into tiny bits and pieces.

Joey risked another glance at Kaiba, and their gazes locked. Shit. He swore he could feel the air, which was rife with tension already, sizzle with the curiosity and—dare he say —concern emanating furiously from cerulean eyes. He could see every curved eyelash touch the skin of his brow, every fleck of cobalt hidden in the warm ring of sea-blue. He could see Kaiba's eyes darkening; he could barely discern the pupil from the blue. Kaiba's gaze narrowed, and his eyes sharpened with intelligence, as though he were scouring the depths of his soul and had discovered something.

Suddenly, Kaiba's eyes widened fractionally and snapped back to near glacial ice-caps, while Joey blinked and hastily looked away, fighting back a blush. And yet he realized something—or at least he found proof that his brain hadn't been completely fried yesterday; the Kaiba everyone else saw, the Kaiba he thought he knew, seemed to be a mere façade.

Kaiba was cold and frigid and rude and could care less about holding the door open for an old lady; _Seto_ was still rude and condescending, but he was also warm (something he had been sure he had imagined) and _nice _and _sweet_. He would have consigned himself to a mental facility if someone told him he'd use these particular adjectives to describe his once-rival. But he felt some sort of odd kinship with him; Seto was hiding his real self from the world, just as he was. And both had let their façades slip.

Joey tilted his head in confusion when the oceanic eyes across him blinked and averted their now-stony gaze back to his laptop.

He admonished himself. What was he doing gaping at Seto? And what would the other teen think?

Joey cleared his throat in the awkward silence that ensued, and flipped open his algebra book, pretending to peruse the section on multiplying basic trinomials—although the only things that were swirling around in Joey's head were _Oh, shit _and _He must think I'm a nut _and _Why won't he leave already?_

Kaiba shifted slightly in the silence, and Joey looked up hopefully. But Kaiba swiftly pulled out his laptop and looked quite at home at the cramped table.

His fingers raced over the surface and his brow furrowed in concentration—and did Kaiba know he bit the corner of his lip right before relaxing his forehead? Joey's lips curled upwards and he thumbed the well-worn page. Kaiba looked _very_ much at home, and every inch the CEO, so neat and clean and cold again, and acting like Joey hadn't had a breakdown in front of him just yesterday…Shut up, he told his brain, which stuttered to a halt and thoroughly agreed with the decision to forget about yesterday.

Where was he? Right. Kaiba was always such a freakish workaholic, and he always maintained a cool air of disdain, turning his nose up and sneering at what he probably thought were lower life-forms. And it seemed that the _other _Seto, who was truly out-of-this-world Twilight-Zone-ish, had disappeared back under that frigid persona. And it also seemed that the snarky, mocking, and utterly exasperating disposition had surfaced.

Joey scowled.

Kaiba leaned forwards, now thoroughly engrossed in his work, and not even sparing so much as a glance Joey's way. Joey scowled even harder. So what was…whatever that was just now? Dammit, Kaiba just pissed the crap out of him anyways. Why was he thinking so hard about him?

Joey sent an annoyed look his way, hoping that Kaiba would hear the brainwaves he was broadcasting (_go away, go away, go away)_. His gaze lingered for a few seconds longer before he noticed the bunch of hair that draped itself on Kaiba's forehead, hooding his eyes.

His eyes. Joey had felt entranced in those few seconds, which in a clichéd way _had _felt an eternity long, when he was staring at Kaiba. The look they shared didn't feel strange or uncomfortable or condescending at all. No, it felt quite the opposite. It felt good. It was a reminder of who Kaiba could be—and who he was. Joey sighed mentally. And now he was spouting nonsense like Tea.

Oddly enough, an itching feeling in his hands wouldn't stop. He wanted to see Kaiba's eyes; they were the only proof that the _other _Kaiba existed. He wanted the other to look at him, to pay attention to him like he had yesterday. He didn't want him to act like…well, normal again, he admitted. Yesterday was actually _nice._ Seto Kaiba was actually _sweet_. And darn it, if that smooth, tawny lock of hair didn't move he'd have to do it himself!

Horrified at where his thoughts had led him, Joey sputtered and blushed furiously, and flipped through chapters at a time in the book.

"Is there a problem?" Kaiba quirked an eyebrow at Joey, without stopping the incessant tapping on the keyboard. Joey gulped, averting his gaze from the amused smirk and sparkling blue eyes back to the book.

"Er, no…" Joey could feel the blood rushing to his face; he moaned inwardly—his face picked the worst times to turn cherry red. He fought the climbing urge to clap his palms on his burning cheeks to avoid further embarrassment. Really, now, what _was_ he doing? What had he been thinking? Joey silently berated himself, oblivious that the CEO was still staring at him pensively.

-.-

Seto's features softened as he finally studied the boy in front of him. That idiotic librarian had wasted his time making him wait at the front desk until she shelved the rest of her books before scrutinizing his hall pass and letting him into the library. The old bat.

He hadn't been able to check on Joey earlier; it wouldn't do to ask his friends, as he would only reap a plethora of odd looks and threats. However, luckily he had caught the familiar flash of messy blond before period three—advanced psychology—which had surprisingly led him straight to the library. He had hastily forged his psych teacher's signature and penned in the date and time on an extra hall pass.

Forget classes. He needed to find out what happened yesterday, and he knew with absolute certainty that by prodding and provoking Joey, he'd be able to fully decipher yesterday's reactions. And how odd was it that Joey felt protected when he was with him? Warmth spread from his heart when he found out that Joey did not detest him—in fact, he actually felt safe with him.

But with that knowledge came confusion and a mess of odd facts.

Had recent or past abuse provoked the powerful and shocking response to his doctor? And why hadn't other students or teachers provoked such a response? After all, Tristan would slap Joey on the back, while Yugi would tug on his arm, and he seemed perfectly comfortable with touch. Until yesterday. When he barged out of a classroom in tears. Strange.

Was it something to do with his infernal friends? Would that turn Joey into a mess? No, that was impossible—he'd just seen Yugi talking to Joey earlier, and Yugi had actually seemed a bit worried about Joey. And anyways, he knew Joey was stronger than that. He wouldn't let something as inconsequential as an argument pierce his happy-go-lucky self. No, his Joey would nip the problem in the bud and make up with his friends right away, cheerfully laughing and smiling brightly. So friend-problems were out of the question.

Was it schoolwork? But he quickly dismissed that idea; the day Joey would care about his grades would be the day kids started dumping DuelDisks in the trash. And there was no way that something that trivial would provoke such a violent response. Was the problem family based? Maybe it was…Had something happened to his father? No, Seto narrowed his eyes. He would have heard about it; he kept tabs on things like these—just in case he learned something important.

But why else would Joey come barreling into him in a crowded hallway, and start bawling and shaking?

He swore at himself; he should have paid better attention during the examination. He needed details, and he didn't have those details. He needed information, and the only way to obtain it would be directly from the source: Joey.

His blood burned as he thought of someone laying hands on someone as pure as Joey.

Of course the teen was bombastic and loud and all-too-cheery and genuinely compassionate—but that's what the essence of Joey _was_. Although the teen could be irritating as hell at times, which was also endearing in a sense, this merely showed that Joey was passionate about what he believed in. His Joey was not a pushover.

And he had staked a claim upon the boy as soon as he had seen him. His bright smile and equally as stunning eyes had instantly reminded him of Mokuba—and had angered him because he had lost Mokuba to Pegasus—but had later melted his heart once he figured the other boy out.

He was so full of life. He wasn't led astray by crime, despite his past, or lust or greed. He had later tried to equate Joey's innocence with that of Yugi—but it didn't fit. Yugi was exceedingly innocent, with huge purple eyes and a childish smile, while Joey had a hidden aura of maturity although he exuded care-freeness.

And it didn't make any sense at all that Joey would let someone hurt him. When he discovered who was abusing Joey, there would be nothing left but bloody remains scattered around town. And if the abuse was in the past, he would use all of his resources to hunt down whoever had hurt Joey.

Calming himself, he watched Joey slump into a chair situated between the shelves, across a tiny table. His curiosity peaked. Why would Joey set foot in a library of all the places he could be? Why not outside or at the cafeteria with his entourage of friends? The Joey he knew usually found solace in his circle of friends, and would never leave them…Right?

Seto sighed frustratedly. Another piece of the puzzle that was Joey. Why was he alone? He obviously wasn't doing any homework. He was just staring off into the distance, thinking.

Seto sat at a nearby table, angling the cheap wooden chair to face Joey. He watched an array of emotions swim across Joey's features, before settling on frustration. Seto fidgeted, itching to comfort Joey as he had yesterday.

When he found Joey in his bedroom, hair mussed and clothes rumpled with sleep, a strangely pleasant jolt of something passed through his body; although Joey looked stressed and his features pained, he looked much less so than after his breakdown. Seto shivered. He'd never forget the tortured expression on Joey's face as he cried out. That was one image that was seared onto his eyelids.

Joey ran his hands through his hair, and then picked at the wooden table. What was going through the other boy's mind? Curiosity won out. Seto had seen enough. Obviously, yesterday's events were still wreaking havoc in Joey's mind—and his friends weren't here with him. Perhaps this was the right moment in which he could figure out what was bothering Joey. And gain insight as to who was hurting him.

He gripped the handle of his suitcase tightly and stopped behind the other teen. Seto couldn't help but notice the way the light shone in his honey-blond hair, making it seem like the strands were made of the smooth silk. Tightening his grip on his suitcase and banishing all thoughts of Joey's hair, Seto lay a hand on Joey's shoulder—and instantly berated himself; Joey flinched, his shoulder twitching under his grasp.

Seto could feel the other teen's entire body tense in anticipation. Joey seemed afraid to turn around, and sat ram-rod straight. Was this the after-effect of more abuse, then? Seto couldn't help but wonder. But he curbed his rising anger, reminding himself of his mission, and breathed in deeply.

"Pup?" he asked, as softly as he could. It would not do to frighten Joey, especially after Joey's violent reaction to his doctor. He murmured the word gently, trying to reassure him that he was no threat. After he had uttered that word, he felt Joey relax under his hand instantly—his shoulders sagged, and he blew a breathy sigh of relief.

Seto removed his hand from Joey's shoulder, at once missing the slight warmth beneath his palm. He curled his hand into a fist, digging his fingernails into his skin. Now was not the time to think of such things, he growled inwardly.

"It's just you. What are ya doing in the library? Don't ya have any other place to be?" Joey drawled, albeit a bit breathlessly.

Seto's retort stuck in his throat as Joey turned around. Effortlessly masking his emotions—especially his concern—Seto scrutinized his pup's face. The light illuminated Joey's features; the skin under his eyes looked bruised, his face all-too pale, his lips pinched in worry. He was neither worse nor better than when he'd dropped him home.

He peered down at Joey, trying to catch his eye, but Joey flatly refused to look at him. Seto's brow furrowed. Had he done something wrong already? Sure he'd accidentally scared Joey—he really should have known better—but didn't yesterday's events show Joey anything? That he cared, or at least that he didn't hate him? He'd tried to do everything he could yesterday to make the other teen as comfortable as possible. But perhaps years of a seemingly hate-hate relationship couldn't overcome that.

So then why wouldn't he look him in the eye? Had someone hurt him again? Surely this was a sign that Joey was hiding a crucial clue—but what was it?

Joey looked extremely nervous; his leg shook, rattling the coins in his pocket, while his fingers drummed on the table-top. Maybe Seto shouldn't have approached him just yet. Maybe he wasn't ready to say anything. But Seto Joey would close up again. Seto steeled his resolve, even though it was obvious that Joey was wishing dearly that the ground opened and conveniently swallowed him up, briefcase and all. He needed answers if he was going to help Joey.

Seto sighed; he knew Joey would not willingly discuss anything with him. In fact, it seemed as though he would have to fight tooth and claw to get anything out of him. He knew that although the boy could be a bit dim at times, he was as stubborn as a mule. He would question him tactfully, of course, but perhaps a direct approach and provocation would work best. After all, Joey did bite back rather viciously (and enthusiastically) after Seto's barbs.

"I'm surprised you know where you are. I thought you were lost again," Seto said, attempting to provoke Joey. Insults never failed, he thought to himself, and smirked. Any moment now, Joey would snap at him defensively.

Oddly enough, he only saw a flicker of something strange pass over Joey's hooded eyes, and disappear as quickly as it had come. Joey merely looked like a kicked puppy, indignantly trying to preserve his pride. That last statement had clearly shaken Joey from his train of thought, for he shook his bangs out of his eyes. But he continued to stare vacantly around the room—everywhere except in front of him, where Seto stood.

He waited in the uncomfortable silence that ensued. Neither said anything, and Joey didn't even glance his way. Seto narrowed his eyes. His attempts at normality were failing—and Joey had never purposefully ignored him. It hurt a bit. Especially after what he had done for him yesterday. But again, perhaps that was the very reason Joey did not want a confrontation. Nevertheless, he'd persist in interacting with the other teen.

He scrutinized the boy in front of him, carefully, yet inconspicuously. He didn't like what he saw—a pale replica of Joey's normally vivacious self.

"What? No half-wit retort to colour my day?" He tried another insult. Perhaps this _wasn't_ the right way to go…

Seto's fingers twitched in irritation as his obvious attempt to arouse some sort of response in the boy in front of him failed. He'd just have to surprise him. He smirked, and pulled out a chair, swiftly sitting down. He was rewarded with a wary and shocked glance sent his way.

Refusing to look at the other teen, Seto pulled his laptop out and smugly set it on the dirty table. He flipped it open, and clicked on the links to his spreadsheets. Let the pup think what he wants. Seto ground his teeth, and set to work, occasionally letting his eyes flick over Joey's still stunned figure. He would open up, he would. And with that, Seto set to work, trying to ignore the curious glances Joey was sending his way.

Accounts. Tables. Numbers. His mind quickly filtered out what was to be done, and his fingers typed on autopilot while he thought about the figure sitting across from him. It was obvious that something was bothering the pup—how many times had he told himself that?—but it was equally as obvious that his presence had unsettled and confused Joey.

Why else would he keep looking at him? He would have snickered aloud if he could have; the other teen really needed to learn subtlety. He could feel the other boy's gaze on him, trying to figure out what he was doing, why he was here. Seto smirked. Let those thoughts stew around for a bit. Maybe then he'll finally muster up the courage to finally say something.

As Seto finally dragged his eyes upwards, his eyes locked with Joey's.

And he couldn't let go; he was inextricably pulled in like a magnet, and once stuck, he couldn't let go.

Last year, during one of his lunch breaks, he remembered sitting under the Sakura tree on dewy grass just last year. He leaned against the short tree, the bark nudging his back. A soft breeze rustled the leaves above him and cooled his skin. The sun hid behind an expanse of clouds, leaving the air pleasant and mild. Seto closed his eyes, and relished in the small break. The blades of grass felt smooth and wet beneath his fingers, but he cared not. He breathed in the heady scent of rain and mint and green and allowed a small smile.

His eyes shot open as something small and hard hit the side of the tree. A black and white soccer ball rolled a few feet away. A loud, breathless voice followed:

"You alright?"

Seto angrily turned to the side, about to tell off the nitwit who dared to throw a ball in his vicinity. But as he turned, he looked at the boy who crouched across from him, scooping up the ball. A familiar boy who caused his heart to thump wildly in his chest—even though he never let his excitement show. He assumed the other teen hadn't looked at him yet, and had rushed over from his game to grab the elusive ball—why else would Joey ask about his welfare. Still, it was nice. During the Duel tournaments, he had become fond of the other boy, and as Mokie put it, developed a "crush."

Seto wanted to cast a cursory glance over the other boy, but found his eyes reluctant to look away.

Joey's cheeks sported a healthy dusting of pink, while he tugged apologetically at his full, bottom lip with his teeth. His hair caressed his forehead, a halo of dazzling blond that was pulled this way and that by the wind.

As Joey lifted his head, both boys' eyes locked. Seto licked his lips unconsciously.

"Fine," he murmured, another breeze, stronger this time, whipped their hair about.

Bright hazel brown eyes widened in surprise and recognition as the sun peeked out from its blanket of clouds. His eyes shone brightly in the sunlight—tinges of gold sparkled against melted chocolate brown. They brimmed with happiness, curiosity bubbling just under the surface, while contentment flowed from his steady gaze. His eyes were twinkling with mischief, but exuded warmth and kindness.

Pureness and innocence filtered through his clear-eyed gaze, not quite understanding that Seto had spoken. But even if Joey had asked Seto to repeat it, he knew he couldn't have possibly done so. His breath caught in his chest at the power of the gaze that cradled his. Seto wanted to burst into a smile at the sheer exuberance of Joey's happiness—he was barely hanging on to maintaining the scowl on his face.

And then they broke their gaze. Seto didn't know who looked away first, and went on as though nothing had happened. But for Seto, it had. It refreshed his outlook on the seemingly obtuse blond, and forced him to reconsider the boy. And reconsider he did…

But today. Today, same as yesterday, these eyes that held his had none of the power or strength of will or even the slightest trace of happiness left in them.

Dull. They were lifeless, brown, chiseled orbs that someone stuck into Joey's eye-sockets, stealing his other, beautiful set of eyes. Only traces of pain and anger vibrated on their surface; the kindness and warmth seemed to have evaporated away. Anguish lit the barely burning fire in his eyes now. He could not believe that the deadened, exhausted gaze belonged to Joey. But it did. And there was nothing else in his eyes, nothing that reminded him of what Joey had been. Something in the vicinity of his heart twisted painfully.

He wanted the old Joey back.

Unanswered questions swirled around his mind in a dizzying frenzy. What happened? Had someone abused him again? Or was it something else? And why wouldn't Joey respond to him?

_Everything_ about this situation felt off. And Seto Kaiba didn't like feeling _off. _

Something must be done, he concluded, for it was _wrong _for Joey Wheeler to act this way. Tristan, he could be moody at times, and Yugi was always child-like and innocent. But that look in Joey's eyes…it didn't belong there…along with another element that was present in that look they were sharing. But he didn't feel that it was as important as the larger issue at hand. He'd analyze _that _look later.

Seto started when Joey's eyes blinked back at him. How long had he been staring?

He quickly averted his eyes, and pretended that he was immersed in evaluating profits from the new brand of DuelDisks he'd released to the public last week. Hm…sales were up fifteen point seven percent. Interesting. Not.

Fool! What was that? What in the world possessed him to lock eyes for who knows how long with Joey Wheeler? Seto fought back a blush and pretended to look busy, his eyes scanning across a blur of numbers and letters on the screen.

He never blushed. He should be able to look all he wanted. He was Seto Kaiba after all. No one questioned him. He was always in control. And, well, if his pup thought it was weird, then so be it. There wasn't anything wrong in just looking, was there? After all, Joey was staring right back at him…And he could have merely been lost in thought and unaware that he was staring at the other boy. Right? What had he been thinking? Seto swallowed dryly.

Collecting himself, he directed his thoughts back to the main problem. Joey Wheeler, what in the seven hells is wrong with you?

Clearing his throat—and no, he was not nervous—he shattered the awkward silence between them.

-.-

Please don't kill me for leaving it there…And I'm super sorry for leaving that horrid ugly black hole of a cliffhanger for you last time…And this is what I do again…It's a wonder I have readers at all…Sigh…

But thank you for reading (and reviewing) my loyal readers. I'm amazed you've stuck it out with me this far due to my sporadic updates. I know I hate it when a writer leaves me hanging forever.

You guys are amazing. I really wouldn't have gone this far if it hadn't have been for you guys. You all give me the courage to keep writing, along with the motivation I need. So thanks once again, and until next time,

Mersedes

PS

I will try to update as soon as I finish typing up the next chapter. See, what happens is...is that I'm a perfectionist—so I have everything written out in my notebook, but when it comes time to type it up and post it, I'll take forever because I worry about everything; where's the proof you ask? Well, it took me an entire summer to type up and triple edit this part (and it's still not perfect). I'm still not satisfied, but I really feel guilty about leaving you hanging. It just isn't fair to you. So I hope this has appeased your appetite, at least for a bit you voracious readers!

PPS

Oh, and I hope you didn't mind the alternating point of view. Do you wish for me to continue in this manner? Or does it become too cumbersome and tedious to read?

Thanks! Hugs :P (yes, I'm one of those weirdos who hasn't gone over to the XD side yet…hehe, but we'll see…)


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